


Where the Lovelight Gleams

by haloeverlasting



Series: Home for Christmas [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, Misunderstandings, but a truly harmless one, much fluff, so fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-19 03:26:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13115010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haloeverlasting/pseuds/haloeverlasting
Summary: It all starts at the kitchen sink. It’s a daily ritual of his husband’s, standing at the kitchen sink and washing the dishes and singing whatever is on his heart and mind that evening. Louis’ own daily ritual is sneaking away from his beautiful daughters, if only for a few moments to hear what it is he’s singing. Sometimes it’s good old Shania, others it’s Coldplay, or of course, the tried and true collection of Fleetwood Mac.It’s the part of the day that Louis finds himself feeling most grateful. His heart swells with joy and gratitude for his family and all they’ve been through together. Today, however… today is different.Or, the one where Louis just wants to be absolutely, positively,surethat Harry knows he loves him.





	Where the Lovelight Gleams

**Author's Note:**

  * For [QuickedWeen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickedWeen/gifts).



> Merry Christmas to all of my friends, but especially to [Molly](http://becomeawendybird.tumblr.com) as this little fic is just for her. <3 :)
> 
> Thanks to [Della](http://iamasphodelknox.tumblr.com) as well for being such a lovely beta and friend. 
> 
> YAY CHRISTMAS CHEER! :D

It all starts at the kitchen sink. It’s a daily ritual of his husband’s, standing at the kitchen sink and washing the dishes and singing whatever is on his heart and mind that evening. Louis’ own daily ritual is sneaking away from his beautiful daughters, if only for a few moments to hear what it is he’s singing. Sometimes it’s good old Shania, others it’s Coldplay, or of course, the tried and true collection of Fleetwood Mac.

It’s the part of the day that Louis finds himself feeling most grateful. His heart swells with joy and gratitude for his family and all they’ve been through together. Today, however… today is different.

“Papa?”

Louis winces, knowing full well that walking on his tiptoes is never _actually_ effective in a subtle escape.

“Yeah, Mal?”

“Where are you going?” she asks, the threat of tears seeping through her voice.

She’s been very sensitive lately, likely because she’s received a stern talking to from both of her dads multiple times this week. She’s been acting out in school, and Harry thinks it’s because he doesn’t have her in his music class this year. Louis would be inclined to agree, if his husband didn’t make a point of visiting their daughter at lunch every day.

“Nowhere, love,” he lies. He learned a long time ago that _sometimes_ it’s better to.

Mallory walks over to him, her feet scuttling quickly across the carpet so she can hug his legs. Louis sighs but reaches down to pick her up. Mallory squeezes with all her five-year-old might and sets her head down on Louis’ shoulder, where Louis begins petting her hair softly.

He spares a glance at Ava, playing alone on the floor with an assortment of colored cups and other plastic bits and bobs. He loves that she’s content on her own for longer amounts of time at this stage. It’s a refreshing change of pace since her sister has decided to attach herself to the nearest hip. He carries her back to the couch where _Frosty the Snowman_ is playing on TV and sits down. She releases Louis’ neck and settles into the space just beside him. He’s relieved to see her yawning, and rubbing her eyes softly. That means bedtime might be a short fight this evening.

The cartoon plays, and Louis tries his best to tune it out, concentrating his hearing towards the kitchen, and wondering how close Harry is to joining them. It can’t be too long now, but Louis wishes it might be _just_ a little longer, so he can listen. Still, he supposes it would be much nicer to have him slotted beside him. These cartoons are always easier to watch when he’s here.

Still, when Mallory stands from her seat on the couch and announces she’s going to put on her new jammies, Louis grins ear to ear as he stands slowly to approach the kitchen.

As he nears the entry way he can hear Harry’s rich voice, wrapping around each word with a warmth he’ll never tire of. He’s giving the pot they used this evening a good scrub and singing a song that Louis knows is familiar but he can’t quite place it.

“ _Trying to make it work, but man, these times are hard_ …” he sings the words softly, with a conviction that makes Louis wary.

At the start of the chorus, Louis places it as a song by The Script. The band warms Louis’ heart, reminding him of the very beginning, when he and Harry had more love for each other than they knew what to do with. Upon further inspection, Louis feels uneasy.

Harry croons this song about feeling disconnected from your partner, and reconnecting somehow. And he sings with such longing, that Louis finds himself counting the days between their recent dates. When _was_ the last time Louis took Harry out?

The pitter patter of his heart speeds up as he’s confronted with a terrifying thought. Does Harry feel like they’ve drifted apart? Is he less in love with him somehow, or does he feel that Louis’ love has shrunk in size and volume? Louis steps away slowly, moving backwards, and is startled when Mallory runs straight past his legs, tapping the back of his knee as she goes, and enters the kitchen. She plows into the back of Harry’s knees, with a small “oomph” from both parties.

“Daddy! There’s something in my room!”

Louis very narrowly escapes from his husband’s view. He hears a concerned hum, and hopes Harry will just handle this one. He’s not up for a monster chase tonight. Instead he takes a seat next to Ava on the floor. She lifts her head slowly, mind busy with play, but when she sees Louis she smiles so wide his heart aches.

He pokes her nose lightly, “Hi baby!”

“Hi papa,” she coos back. She’s nearly two, and has gotten very good at greetings. She’s also very well versed in animal noises, and she can answer an array of questions, and can remember a handful of names _—_ including her sister “Maui.” She learns new things all the time, and Louis loves her so much he thinks his heart might burst some days. Between Mallory and Ava, it’s miraculous that he has enough left in him to kiss his husband goodnight, and feel as in love with him as he always has, if not even more.

Can Harry really not feel that? Can he not feel the way his heart swells when he sees Harry under certain lights? How he still laughs harder than is necessary at his shenanigans? How his stomach still swoops when he sees him interact with their children? How easy he is for Harry’s kiss and touch, and the way he gets a little desperate for it sometimes? Desperate for all of his attention?

He loves his family so much, and his heart hurts at the idea that he’s not doing it right. That somewhere along the way he left his husband with needs unmet.

When Harry rounds the corner, he looks bemused, eyebrows furrowed, with a small smile on his face.

“Everything okay?” he asks.

Louis returns his smile, though it falters when he asks, “Why do you ask?”

“You’ve a very perplexed look on your face.”

“Oh,” Louis shrugs. “Sorry, just thinking… Where’s Mal?”

“Asleep. She was cranky so we read a book for a few minutes, and she was out.”

Louis’ relief must be written all over his face and shoulders as he slumps forward, because Harry chuckles and settles in on one of the arm chairs across the room. Louis wants him closer, but he doesn’t think he should make a scene. Besides that, they’ll put Ava down soon, and then he’ll have Harry all to himself. Maybe he can do something, _say_ something to reassure him.

Ava doesn’t pay either of them mind, though she’s decided playing with the box that contained her colorful cups is much more fun than the toys. She picks it up and drops it, giggling delightedly at the sound, and Louis should likely keep an eye on her, but his gaze keeps finding Harry. His profile is stunning, and he smiles at how Harry winces each time Ava drops the box again. The loud clattering of plastic is a startling sound.  

“Ava, no, no,” Louis says softly. He pulls the box from his daughter’s tiny hand, and immediately regrets it when her face scrunches quickly and she unleashes a loud yowl of protest.

Harry turns toward them, and huffs a tired sigh.

“I’ve got it, H,” Louis mutters as he picks Ava up and rocks her gently. He glances at the clock, and at just past seven he decides it’s close enough to bedtime.

“You putting her down?” Harry asks, sunk further into his chair. He looks like he could fall asleep.

Louis takes their screaming child upstairs, and tries his best to soothe her. She learns more every day, yes, but that doesn’t exclude new reasons to throw a good tantrum. He slips by Mallory’s room quickly, praying the sound doesn’t wake her. When he makes it to the end of the hall to Ava’s nursery, he shuts the door behind him quickly and makes quick work of settling into the rocking chair.

Ava wails, and Louis makes that shoosh sound that soothes her and rocks her back and forth for a while before she gives a few pathetic, sleepy sniffles. He giggles quietly at her, brushing what little hair she has on her head back softly. She’s been bald for most of her infancy, so the little tufts of red hair are Louis’ favorite part of her currently. She stares up at him, and sticks the pacifier attached to her shirt in her own mouth, eyes wide.

“Feeling better, love?” he asks softly.

She blinks back up at him, and talks that nonsense she has been recently, so the pacifier falls out of her mouth.

Louis nods his head very seriously, “I’m so glad, darling.”

It doesn’t take long for her to drift off to sleep, but Louis likes to rock her an extra ten minutes when they do bedtime like this. First and foremost, because he loves his baby, and second, because he wants to make sure she’s well and truly asleep before he attempts the handoff from rocking chair to crib.

His mind always wanders in those ten minutes. Usually to some work stress, or to his husband. Today it’s the latter, and he finds himself worried he’ll find Harry asleep in that armchair before he has to chance to talk to him.

Louis doesn’t want to stress about it too much. He knows Harry’s work days have felt much longer than usual. The kids are getting antsy, with the cold weather keeping them indoors at recess, and all the hustle and bustle of Christmas time always makes those last few weeks of the semester gruelling. And on any other day, Louis would be content to encourage Harry to go to bed. Harry would protest that it’s too early, and Louis would insist he needs his rest—because he does.

But what if every time they’ve had that exact argument, it was a sign? Or some kind of clue, that Louis should try a little harder? Louis remembers a time that their days were long and their nights were longer, always staying up late into the night, talking about all their big dreams, and what fruit they would choose if they could only eat one for the rest of eternity. Has Harry been hinting at that all this time? Fighting well deserved sleep for some quality time with Louis?

Louis looks down at Ava’s sleeping form, and smiles. He stands from the rocking chair, and very gently places her in her crib. She makes the smallest noise, and Louis freezes in his place, and with a peaceful exhale, Louis makes his exit.

He does find Harry drifting off, just as he’d thought he might. Frosty has ended and Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer is playing. Louis’ surprised that even in his sleepy haze, Harry didn’t dart for the remote to flip it off once it started. They have watched Rudolph their fair share of replays, per Mallory’s request, in Christmas’ past. Particularly the last one. Louis thinks that last year he watched it more than he ever had in years combined.

Once he’s hit the power button on the remote, the room is much darker than he was anticipating. There’s a lamp on across the room, but it’s the only other thing illuminating the space, and when he looks to the chair where Harry’s sits, his eyes have fallen shut, and his mouth has fallen open. He’s curled up so his whole body is tilted to the left against the side of the chair, and Louis approaches him very quietly, so as not to startle him.

He places a hand at the top of Harry’s curls, and brushes his fingers through it at the top, very similar to how he’d regarded Ava only moments before. He massages the base of Harry’s scalp a second and whispers, “Hey, H?”

Harry stirs, shutting his mouth and humming in Louis’ direction.

“Wanna go to bed, love?”

Harry sniffles, and furrows his brow, “S’too early, isn’t it?”

Louis bites at his lip, and considers what reading between the lines would mean here. Harry’s going to have a serious crick in his neck if he doesn’t at least move upstairs to their bed. Maybe he can devise a better plan to prove his love from there.

“Nah,” Louis assures him, “Let’s go upstairs.”

He lets Harry lead the way, shutting off lights as he goes. Louis’ not too tired yet, and he’s hoping that the walk upstairs will give Harry a little jolt of energy. He’s found himself buzzing with a familiar excitement to just _be_ with him. Something they haven’t done in too long.

He glances at Harry just in front of him at the very top of the stairs, a hand carding through his own hair, and he can hear him yawn with a slight squeak at the end. Harry’s slouching as he walks, and it reminds Louis of when he was younger. When Louis could always tell Harry hadn’t slept well the night before based on that very slouch. Harry would sigh and say he wished Louis would have stayed, and Louis would have pouted and made his apologies in kisses right there in the open hallway.

He rolls his eyes, realizing how right his friends were to gag at the two of them all the time.

Once Harry reaches the end of their bed he collapses backwards onto it, and lets out a long sigh. Louis mimics him, taking the spot right beside him, only being as close to the edge as he is, he finds the landing a little less effortless. He bounces a little further away and very nearly falls off.

Harry moves quickly for his arm, and pulls him closer, bellowing a short laugh, “You alright?”

Louis chuckles back and nods, “Looks like I’m getting too old for that.”

Harry smiles wide at him, “Not even close. My dad bod just took up too much room.”

Louis cackles at that, taking the opportunity to squeeze lightly at one of Harry’s lovehandles. Harry jumps at the touch, a small grunt escaping him as he moves away quickly.

“No, come back!” Louis calls, dramatically, “I love your dad bod!”

Once Harry’s clear on the other side of their king size mattress, he lies on his side to face Louis, granting him a sweet smile, “Thanks.”

Louis smiles back, hoping Harry knows he was kidding about his body anyway. They’re both a little fluffier in the tummy region, but as far as Louis’ concerned it’s an improvement. He loves every bit of Harry no matter how big or small it was or will be.

He’s just about to say as much, but Harry takes the silence as the end of a moment, and he stands to his feet to change his clothes for bed.

It’s strange because Louis doesn’t _feel_ any strain between them. There’s nothing amiss as far as he can see. And that’s the part that scares him the most. The idea that something so important to him is slipping between his fingers and he can’t see any trace of a threat. He prides himself on reading Harry like a book, when so many of their friends struggle to, and now, he can only see severe tiredness seeping into his posture. He can see love and light in his eyes. His breathing is easy, and his movements are slow as he sinks into his spot on the bed and burrows himself under the covers.

Harry turns slightly to peek over his shoulder, “You joining me?”

Louis smiles, despite the distress he’s experiencing. He can’t find it in him to frown when Harry looks so soft and inviting. He nods his head before slipping out of his own clothes down to his boxers and pulling the blanket back on his side so he can climb under it.

He scoots in close and wraps an arm around Harry’s waist, pleased when Harry also shifts toward him.

“No pajamas?” Harry asks, slight amusement in his voice.

“We used to sleep naked, you know.”

“Yeah,” Harry snorts. “Until Mal started walking in with no notice.”

Louis chuckles into the back of Harry’s neck, “Yeah, well.”

Silence falls on them, as Harry reaches for the light. A moment that would strike Louis as calming, has him in a panic. He doesn’t want another night to go by without really proving himself to Harry. Normally, a bit of banter and a spoon would do, but today he’s all out of sorts. The silence fuelling his mental replay of that damn song at the kitchen sink.

He tries to think of an idea, _anything_ to revive them. Bring them back to their spirited romance. It’s so early, and he isn’t the least bit tired _—_ but he’s never one to turn down a cuddle. And Harry sleeps better if he’s just _there_ anyway. Still, some tiny, relentless part of him thinks that Harry might want something else from him. Like maybe this early bedtime is just Harry trying to get him alone.

Harry used to feign sleepiness all the time. He’d tell everyone how tired he was and yawn all the way up to Louis’ room so no one would make any judgments. Louis used to laugh because he was sure his mum thought they were doing something very different in his room, but usually all Harry had wanted was to be alone with him. Of course, that often included those things his mother suspected, but others Harry just wanted to talk.

They’d beg off for an early bedtime and instead stay up into the wee hours of the night, asking the most mundane questions of each other, until one of them couldn’t keep their eyes open anymore.

Louis hears Harry yawn loudly, and settle into his spot just that little more. He could fall asleep any second if he doesn’t act fast.

“Haz?”

Harry hums.

“What are your sixteen favorite rom-coms?”

Harry doesn’t answer straight away, only shifts slightly in Louis’ arms. Louis can practically _see_ the confusion, just from the back of his head. Louis rolls his eyes at himself. Was that really the best question he could come up with?

“You serious?”

“Nah,” Louis whispers, “You can just tell me three.”

Louis doesn’t even know what he’s _saying_.

“You already know my favorites,” Harry says, quickly.

“Okay, then which of those would you watch every day for the rest of your life if you had to?”

Harry shifts again, this time to lie on his back and turn his head toward Louis.

“Um… probably _The Notebook_ , to be honest.”

Louis knew that. He really doesn’t know why the hell he asked. He feels desperate. Desperate to keep Harry awake, and to show him he loves him. Instead he looks like an idiot.

Harry settles into his new position, Louis’ arm resting under his neck, and his hair splayed across his pillow.

Just as Harry’s eyes begin to fall shut, Louis opens his big mouth to ask him something else.

“Do you think Mal will want to go to college?”

Harry’s eyes don’t open, but Louis sees him raise one eyebrow. Confusion, now replaced with suspicion, which may be a million times worse.

“I’m not sure, Lou. Does it matter?”

“Not really,” Louis admits, “I’m just curious what you think.”

“I mean, she’s five,” Harry replies, words becoming slurred. “Won’t have a good idea of that yet, will we?”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“We’ll have to conduct a thorough analysis tomorrow,” Harry says slowly, and Louis smiles fondly at him.

Harry sighs deeply before resuming his position as the little spoon and mutters a quick goodnight.

Louis doesn’t say the same, trying to think on his feet. So of course he does the only thing he knows will get Harry’s attention. Louis dips in close and places a tentative kiss to the side Harry’s neck. It’s received well, a quiet hum from Harry’s lips in reply. He gains confidence and moves his hands slowly down Harry’s torso, this time sucking lightly on the same spot.

“Lou?” Harry giggles softly. “What are you doing?”

Louis lifts his head quickly, and Harry turns his up to catch a look at him. He’s smiling, but he’s _amused_.

Louis dips his head, self conscious now, and Harry reaches for his hand sitting just at the waistband of his pajama pants, and interlaces their fingers, squeezing lightly.

“You okay?”

Louis removes himself from Harry’s back slightly, sinking further into the mattress. If intimacy is funny then maybe there’s something wrong with their marriage after all. Louis tries his best to stay calm, and collected.

Harry turns around, releasing Louis’ hand in the process. His brows are furrowed in concern now, which means Louis isn’t concealing his own well at all.

“Hi,” he says.

Louis smiles feebly, avoiding Harry’s eyes.

“I didn’t mean to shut you down, love.” Harry says softly, bringing a hand to the side of Louis’ face. “I’m just really tired. Can we try again another night this week?”

Louis nods quickly. He feels ridiculous. He knew Harry was exhausted and he’s been trying to read between lines that don’t even exist. And besides that, whatever issues do exist in their marriage couldn’t be fixed with sex.

“Are you okay?”

Louis nods again.

“I don’t believe you,” Harry says. “What’s happening?”

“Nothing, sorry,” Louis mutters. “Let’s just go to sleep.”

“You sure?” Harry asks, seriously. “Do you want to talk about something?”

“No,” Louis reassures him, though it leaves him with a gaping hole in his own chest. He doesn’t want to lie, but the anxiety is eating him alive, so when Harry reaches between them and squeezes Louis’ hand. He sighs and admits, “Just missing you a little. Can we go out some night this week?”

Harry’s eyes widen a little, maybe surprised somehow at Louis’ confession.

“Of course,” he agrees easily. “Let’s do it. I’ll call Niall tomorrow and see if he can watch the girls.”

Harry leans in and presses a soft kiss to Louis’ lips. “Can I sleep now?”

Louis smiles. He can’t help it.

Harry breathes in deeply and turns away again, and this time, when Louis cuddles in close, he listens to the sound of Harry’s breathing even out, and he let’s it be.

  
___

 

Louis’ palms are sweating when he pulls into the driveway of their home. Harry’s car is in the garage and the light is on, and he knows that inside his house things are probably a little chaotic. He knows he should get in there and help Harry gather the rest of the girls things so they can take them over to Niall’s but he needs just a moment.

He hasn’t been this nervous for a date with his husband in actual years. He should be excited, and a small part of him is. Another part of him is terrified. He’s spent the duration of this week fumbling around a question he’s been dying to ask, but the time just wasn’t right.  

When he sees a glimpse of Mallory at the front door with her coat on, he realizes he’s been caught. Harry comes trudging out, with a puff of a baby in his arms, a scarf wrapped tight around his own neck, and Mallory bounding ahead of them in her own giant puffy coat. She runs straight to the driver’s door and bangs lightly on it. Louis chuckles when he sees Harry scold her lightly, grabbing her arm and pulling towards the back door. He hates when she does that. Worries too much about being pushed over by the car door.

Harry opens it and lets Mallory climb into her carseat. He walks around and sets Ava in her own, fastening her tightly.

“Daddy, I can’t buckle it,” Mallory whines, and Louis watches out the corner of his eye as Harry glances up at her, showing the least amount of irritation he can muster, before he replies.

“I thought you wanted to do your own buckle, Mal,” he reminds her calmly.

“I need help,” she replies, clearly on the verge of tears.

“Give me just a second Mal, I’m helping Ava first—”

“I got it,” Louis pipes in, unbuckling himself and exiting the car to Mallory.

He opens the car and finds a thankful smile across the way from his husband. Mallory tugs at his coat and makes a bemoaned sound. “Hang on, Mal, can you show me what’s giving you trouble?”

“I can’t pull it,” she says frustrated. He glances to her hand, where the belt is nestled, but clearly caught behind the weight of her carseat. He reaches for it, and she squeals pulling away, “I wanna do it!”

“You can do it, love, but it’s stuck. Papa wants to help you get it unstuck first.”

She drops it from her hand and crosses her arms tightly, “Okay.”

Louis reaches behind the seat and pulls so that it’s sitting beside her seat, from there he pulls it so it ends up right in Mallory’s hand.

Mallory’s pout disappears as she grabs it, and Louis holds the other piece in place so she can attach the two with ease. “I did it!”

“Yes, you did.” Louis replies, placing a soft kiss to her head.

He backs away and shuts the door, and climbs back into the driver’s seat, where Harry is waiting, his own seatbelt fastened and a palm lying open on the compartment between them.

Louis smiles, as he refastens his own belt,  starts the car, and places his hand in Harry’s.

Mallory immediately begins asking for Moana, which throws a wrench in their lovely moment.

“Mal, let’s do some Christmas music instead. You love Christmas music, right?”

She nods her head emphatically, and Harry makes a very quiet sound of relief as he adjusts the station to the one that plays all Christmas music. He then adjusts the sound so that the music is played predominantly in the back of the car. Harry doesn’t do this all that often, only when he wants to talk to Louis without Mallory interfering. It sets his nerves on fire again, as he feels Harry squeeze his palm and lean slightly towards him.

“Hope you don’t mind we came straight out. I saw you out here for a while and thought you might be waiting,” Harry says quietly.

“Oh,” Louis shrugs, “That was fine. I was just thinking is all.”

“Thinking?”

Louis nods, “Yeah, just excited to be with you and all.”

Harry smiles fondly, and brings the music back up front at a low volume.

“Daddy, will Uncle Niall let me jump on his bed?”

Louis almost laughs out loud when he sees Harry sink just a little lower into his chair. They love their children, more than anything in the world, but after a full day, he’s sure Harry’s had his fill of all of Mallory’s questions.

“That’s up to him, but I’d prefer you not,” he says, patiently.

“But if _he_ says yeah, then it’s okay, right?”

Harry shrugs, “S’pose I can’t stop you, can I?”

It’s far too snarky for this conversation, but luckily Mallory accepts it. Harry turns the volume up to fill the silence for the duration of their trip.

The drop off goes smoothly. Niall greets everyone with open arms, and there’s so much laughing, Mallory doesn’t have the chance to cry (for her dads, at least). Even Ava makes grabby hands at Niall so their goodbyes go swimmingly. Harry leaves the diaper bag in the front entryway and tells Niall that everything he needs is in there, as well as a note with _thorough_ instructions for bedtime, and a reminder that they’ll be by later that evening to pick them up.

It all goes so smoothly, so swiftly, that by the time Harry and Louis are encased in the car, they’re both in a bit of shock.

“That only took ten minutes?” Harry asks, tapping the clock, as though it would fix it to the correct time.

“Apparently so,” Louis shrugs, admittedly shocked himself.

“What the fuck?”

Louis barks a laugh at that, he rarely hears Harry drop an expletive in casual conversation anymore.

“Well,” Harry leans back into his chair. “I’m relieved, and a little offended. Ava didn’t even cry.”

“They must like him better,” Louis says with light sarcasm.

“Clearly, he’s the cooler parent,” Harry agrees.

They both slump into their seats, turning their heads toward the other at the same time.

“So did you have any plans?” Harry asks.

“Thought we’d have dinner, first,” Louis shrugs nonchalantly, “I’ll wine and dine you. And then I had very special plans for dessert.”

Harry snorts, and raises his eyebrows suggestively. “Wanna go home and have dessert first?”

“Yeah?”

Harry grins, “I’m up for it, yeah.”

“Are you?” Louis teases, glancing down at Harry’s lap.

Harry laughs and hits Louis’ shoulder lightly. And suddenly, Louis can’t even remember why he’d been so nervous. He can’t remember why he’d been so convinced there was something wrong here.

Louis pulls out of Niall’s driveway and takes them home. Harry teases him the whole way, unbuckling to press playful kisses to his neck at every stop light, and a possessive hand taking residence at his inner thigh. It’s so nice, and calming, Louis wants to forget the panic that’s gripped him all week. It feels silly that he let it overtake him this long, and yet, there’s still a small niggling thought won’t leave it alone.

So when he pulls into the driveway of their home, he takes Harry’s hand from his thigh and holds it tight. He looks Harry in the eyes, and says, “Can I ask you something?”

Harry scrunches his face up in confusion, but nods his head.

“Do you think…” Louis swallows, thickly, trying to find the right question. “Are you… worried… about us?”

This time Harry’s eyebrows shoot up and he places his other hand on top of Louis’, “I wasn’t… but, why?”

Louis exhales his relief. “If you’re not worried, I’m not worried. Honestly, now I’m fine, let’s go inside.”

“No,” Harry shakes his head and squeezes Louis’ hand, encased in both of his. “Why would you be worried? Is this why you were so weird earlier this week?”

Louis feels his cheeks warm, and he nods his head in admission.

“Yeah, I… heard you singing this song—one by The Script? About a couple that was mending their relationship, and I got—”

“Did you think I could relate?” Harry doesn’t look like he quite understands.

Louis nods his head, “Yeah, I know, it’s stupid—”

“No, absolutely not. I just…” Harry chuckles a bit. “I was singing that song because I was remembering that time you gave me a The Script vinyl for Christmas.”

“You were?”

“Yeah, I dunno why that song was what came to mind. But I was singing it because I love you.” Harry smiles warmly and kisses the top of Louis’ hand.

“Well that’s… very sweet.”

“I was also thinking of it because I’m determined beat you for best present this year.”

Relief sweeps over Louis’ features, and his answering smirk comes without hesitation.

“Fat chance, Styles.”

Harry laughs loudly, “That’s Tomlinson, to you.”

“Happily?” Louis asks, though by now he knows the answer.

“So happily, it’s stupid,” Harry reassures him. “Wanna go consummate it again?”

“Is it really consummating at this point?” Louis giggles.

“It’s whatever we want it to be, babe.”

Harry leans in for a kiss and as soon as Louis leans in to meet him, he pulls away, a devillish grin on his face.

“Last one in gives the first blowjob.” Harry quickly removes himself from the car and runs inside.

Louis runs after him, laughing, and accepts his loss by pulling a smug Harry in close and shutting the front door behind him.

“What are we? Fifteen?”

“Always feels that way with you,” Harry smiles, kissing him softly.

Louis brings his hands down around Harry’s bum, and pulls back to take him in even closer.  

“Hopefully I give better head now, though.”

“Oh, absolutely.”

And this time, when Louis leans in close, he revels in the sweet simplicity of it all. He’s thankful for his husband, and their family, and this precious time he has to dazzle him and keep him happy. And he’s relieved to know that that is exactly as easy as it sounds.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Molly figured out this was me as fast as I thought she would just for the record. lol


End file.
